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” “It’s an unrest—a longing—What’s that?” The waiter had intervened. I made the pies. The Iron Bar 397 XVIII. "You needn't go far to do that," returned Quilt; "there he stands. " "By the way, did you read those stories?" "Yes. Beside me on Anna’s table was a pistol. The action steadied him; and there was a phase of irony, too, that helped. “You see,” he said, “it is doubtful if we can ever marry. Montressor’s guests. I——” Then he stopped short, for he began to remember things. " "Queer birds.
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